


What Happens at Band Camp, Stays at Band Camp

by Xx_DrUnKwOnGo69_xX



Category: EXO (Band), Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Drunk Fic, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9966731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xx_DrUnKwOnGo69_xX/pseuds/Xx_DrUnKwOnGo69_xX
Summary: Prompt - Everyone is a teenager at high school for some reason.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of age of consent (in Aus anyway), Sehun is 16 and Reader and Hyunwoo are 18. 
> 
> So, I got drunk by myself and decided to write my friends some fic. If you look carefully, you can see the intoxication level rise throughout the fic. Good timesssss.
> 
> Also, I did not edit any of this, except for places where the meaning was completely obscured. Enjoooyyyyy.

It’s late in the afternoon when you jog across the open grassed area towards the storage room, dodging picnic tables as you go. The misty rain isn’t heavy, but it clings to you, soaking you through almost instantly. You reach the storeroom and quickly open it with your key, not wanting to be out in the cold longer than you have to.

As soon as you’re inside you shuffle around, trying to shake off some water, but it’s no use. Luckily, the storeroom is heated, and it’s really warm inside. You take one quick, cursory glance around the room to make sure no one else is inside, and instantly curse yourself for your paranoia. No one else has a key to the storeroom except that tall Korean-Aussie kid from up North, and you know that he was in the common room you just left, so you’re safe. Totally alone.

You peel all your wet clothes off and lay them over the heater, hoping that by the time you were done here that they’d be dry, and if not dry, maybe just warm. You look around and sigh. Fuuuuucckkk. You might be here a while. Camp ends tomorrow and you have so many instruments to account for and check for signs of damage. You really should have started this earlier, but the party was too enticing.

You’re in the middle of checking the first instrument case and thinking about how bullshit it is that the teachers don’t do this instead when you hear a noise from behind the back shelf. You fright so hard that you almost drop the instrument you’re holding (and thank fuck you didn’t because it’s the viola that was rented out specifically for you, and any cost for damages would be sent straight to your parents).

You listen intently for a moment, but don’t hear anything else. You’re trying to decide whether to ignore it or investigate when your paranoia gets the best of you.

“Is anyone back there?”

Nothing.

“Hello?”

Still nothing.

For a small moment you want to leave it alone, but again your paranoia gets the best of you. You pick up one of the cricket bats nestled in with the sports equipment and sneak towards the back shelves. Your heart is going a million miles an hour. You briefly consider going to get someone else, but before you know it you’re standing at the edge about to jump out and scare whatever or whoever is there. _If_ there’s someone there.

You jump around the corner, yelling and brandishing the cricket bat and are met with hoots of fear from the figure crowded in the corner. You stop and take a good look. It’s one of the other Korean-Aussie boys. Sehun maybe? He’s two years below you (year 10) and he plays the clarinet (and from memory he’s pretty good. You hadn’t really paid much attention to him during the entirety of the camp, except to notice his pointy pointy face and his pointy pointy eyebrows and his goofy goofy grin.

You look at him now, and even while he’s huddled in the corner, you can tell that he’s tall for his age. He has bleach blonde hair that is ruffled everywhere and a pair of glasses that look more fashion than practical.

You arch an eyebrow and stare him down.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?”

For a moment he just stares back at you blankly, and for a brief racist moment you wonder if he can speak English. Turns out yeah he can, and his next words have you trying to melt into the floor.

“Where the fuck are your clothes?”

Your heart stops. You don’t even have to look down as the memory comes back to you like a freight train and smacks you full force. You think longingly of the wet clothes you left over the heater, and you can feel your cheeks heating when you also remember that the bra and undies you’re wearing today, tho comfortable, look festy af. Great.

You try and act casual, pass it off like you do this sort of shit all the time, but you’re not quite sure if you hit the mark.

“I said, what the fuck are you doing here?”

He eyes you up and down in a way that has your skeleton turning to jelly before he stops and says, “No one here really likes me. I just wanted to get away from everyone. I knew this place was kept warm and picked the lock to get in. You won’t tell the teachers, will you?”

For a moment you go soft, wanting to reassure him. But then you remember that up and down look he gave you and you want to get your own back, assert yourself as the one in control.

“I might. And I might not. What can you do for me in return?” You smirk, quirking your mouth slightly, knowing this expression has worked well for you in the past.

The boy stares at you for a while, and as you stand there cockily your confidence starts to fade. You suddenly want to cover yourself with your arms but to change position now would show your weakness in front of him, so you hold position, begging him in your mind to _fucking say something._

He stands and moves towards you. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re wondering if your body is vibrating along with it. Probably. Most likely. Oops.

He stops right in front of you and stares down at you. He is _really_ tall for his age.

“You know, playing clarinet has made me pretty skilled with my fingers and my tongue.”

The only thought that registers is that you’re pretty sure you don’t have to worry about your body vibrating anymore cos you’re positive your heart has stopped. _Fuuuuuuckkkk_.

“Can I take your silence as consent?”

You try to act cool and nod, but it feels awkward, so you attempt to speak. “Sure,” but instead of sounding smooth like you wanted, it comes out like a croak.

He giggles at you and make the biggest, goofiest grin that reaches from cheek to cheek and spreads a warm sunny feeling right down to your toes. Electric. _Fuck._

And next thing you know he’s slipping his hands around your bare waist and pulling you into his surprisingly warm body, and yeah, okay, he’s _really_ good with his lips and tongue. Damn.

You’re so absorbed with each other that you don’t hear the key in the lock, and you don’t hear the door open and close. You don’t hear the sound of wet footsteps making their way to the back of the storeroom, and you don’t hear the small gasp.

You do, however, hear, “Soooo, what’s goin’ on here then?”

You startle and try to pull away, but though you break the kiss, Sehun still holds you tightly around the waist. You don’t need to turn your head to know who’s there. Only one other student has a key and you’d recognise his voice anywhere. You bury your hot, red cheeks into Sehun’s neck and choose to shut down and let him talk your way out of this one.

“Dunno mate, what does it look like?”

You can hear the smile in Sehun’s voice, that _fucker_.

“To be honest, looks like a good time.” His deep voice sounds like he’s also smiling back a Sehun. Are they playing with you? _The fuckers_.

“True true. But not something we want anyone else talking about, hey _jagi_ ?” DID SEHUN JUST CALL YOU _JAGI???_ Your knees fucking go weak, how cliché.

“Well, there’s one way to keep me quiet.” You feel a warm, broad hand on your back, and your head jerks upwards, electrified.

And the movement brings you face to face with Hyunwoo. Fucking Hyunwoo. The male camp leader. The North schools’ representative. The hot as fuck boy with the broad shoulders, thick neck, and strong arms that can fucking jam it the fuck out on piano. The one you’ve been fantasizing about every fucking night, wishing that, just for a second, he’d notice you. _Jesus fucking Christ._ Maybe he did notice you after all.

“What do you say, _jagiya?_ ” Hyunwoo’s breath ghosts over your face and this time your knees do buckle and both Sehun and Hyunwoo catch you, both of them grinning. _Assholes_.

You stare each one of them down for a moment. “Did you guys plan this, or what?”

Their grins widen and Hyunwoo pats your hair. “You’re smarter than you look, _Jagiya_.”

You should have sassed him good for that backhanded compliment, but Hyunwoo kissing you while Sehun was caressing your face kinda made you completely blank.

Vaguely you wonder what all your friends at school might think, but then you remember ‘ _what happens at band camp, stays at band camp_ ’.

“ _Deal_ ” you think to yourself, as you submit yourself to their control.

**Author's Note:**

> What a hot mess. This one is for you, Sammy xx


End file.
